Of course, today would be the day the morning person called out. I basically got a tshirt hurled at me and was told to clock in. After I got ANOTHER shirt (why is it that short women always want to put me in a medium? The girls DO NOT go in a medium. At least not in a professional setting), I hit the floor and it. Didn't. Stop.

I poured drinks. I ran food (how did I miss the fact that this place has a second floor? Oh, my poor knees!). I did refills. I bussed tables (thankfully, I did not get stuck doing dishes, although that, too, is evidently part of the job description that I never got).

Now for the upside: it's a non-tipping place (meaning I'm not making the ridiculous pittance they pay servers), but I still managed to walk home with $28 in tips for a 3.5 hour shift. I am told that is NOT typical, and the managers seemed impressed.

I brought my employee meal (70% discount. Not shabby) home to Kent, who has been whining about wanting a Reuben for WEEKS and the last think I wanted to do was stare down a sandwich.

Since I got cut early, I came to home change before my interview for B-ski's. I think it went well. They're looking at me for a cook position, which might actually be physically easier on me (no stairs. Stairs + me+ large trays of food = recipe for EPIC disaster). I'll hear by the weekend. *fingers crossed* And, hey, I've got a stop gap where I may be walking home with a bit of pocket money. Huzzah!

I ended the day by buying my ticket for Felicia Day, squandering some of my tip money on cheap Chardonnay and lavender soap, and buying an ice cream come to eat on the way home.